


The Roles We Play

by psychicdreamsandangelwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Play, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling, Dean Can't Cope, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Little!Dean, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past childhood sexual abuse, Sam is an awesome brother, daddy!castiel, non-sexual infantilism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicdreamsandangelwings/pseuds/psychicdreamsandangelwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John shows up unexpectedly, causing Dean to relive some of his worst childhood memories. Unable to cope with the sudden onslaught, Dean starts slipping into his little headspace. Only he can't do this without Cas, who conveniently is on a business trip and won't be home for a few days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something one of my friends asked me to write for them. I've never wrote anything even remotely close to this, it sure is a change from all the Walking Dead stuff I've been working on, and I almost didn't post it. But, the friend I wrote this for seems to like what I've written so I figure I'd post it anyways. 
> 
> Sarah, this is for you.
> 
> Note: Dean and Cas have been in an established relationship for a few years now. When things get to be too tough or something happens that Dean isn't equipped to handle he slips into his little headspace, making it a sort of defense mechanism, and this aspect of his and Cas' relationship is ENTIRELY non-sexual. Nothing sexual happens between the two of them when they're "Daddy and little."

Dean’s in the middle of the newest episode of The Walking Dead when the doorbell rings. He pauses the TV and stands up, arching his body in a stretch that pops his back. “It’s about damn time,” he mutters to himself as he makes his way towards the door. He’d ordered a pizza forty-five minutes ago and the damn thing still hadn’t arrived.

He pulls his wallet out of his pocket as he opens the door, already starting to count out the money he owes the delivery boy. “Twenty-four even right?” Dean asks, double checking he’s got the amount right as he looks up with a smile on his face despite the fact that his pizza is definitely late.

His smile quickly fades however when he sees who’s actually on the other side of the door. His wallet tumbles to the ground with a dull thud, the money still clutched tightly in his hand, and his throat seizes up before he can make a noise. His heartbeat pounds harder than normal, his palms start to sweat, and he can't seem to suck in enough air to breathe properly. His entire body seizes up just at the sight of his father's menacing presence and he  _fucking hates it._

“Dean,” John says, smile lighting up his face. He looks happy to see him, like he's just a normal father come to visit his son, but Dean wants him gone and wants him gone now. “How’s it going? It's been a while since I've seen you, sorry about that. You still sleeping with that hotshot business mogul, fucking him for a place to stay? Must be, I know mechanics can’t afford digs like this on their own and there’s no other reason he’d want to be with you.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Dean says, cutting John off before he can say anything else about his relationship with Cas. His voice is soft and quiet, he’s not even sure if John can hear him correctly. “You can’t be here.”

“It’s a free country,” he says dismissively, shifting his weight so he’s leaning up against the door jam. To most it might seem like a simple shift in position, but Dean can recognize it as what it is. John's trying to take up as much room as he can, making himself seem even larger than he is in an attempt to make Dean feel small. He’s been doing it since Dean was a kid.

“I can be wherever the hell I want to be, no matter what my pathetic excuse for a son thinks. You didn't answer my question," John continues, voice hardening as he grows angrier. His voice is bringing up memories Dean doesn't want to think about, can't think about, and he just wants him to  _leave._ "I asked you how you’ve been Dean. You're not going to disobey me, are you?"

Dean doesn't say anything, doesn't think he can say anything right now. He can feel the fear and anxiety he’s starting to feel curl its way up his body, consuming everything else. It's been years since he's seen his father, years since he's come face to face with the man who caused him so much pain, and he can't handle it. His voice gets stuck in his throat as a knot of pain and emotion clogs up his airway and he can't seem to make his vocal chords work like they're supposed to.

“Don't tell me cat’s got your tongue?” John says, laughing in a way that is anything but friendly. He taps Dean’s chin, lifting his face up so he's looking John directly in the eyes. To most people a gesture like this is meant to be a friendly way to cheer someone up, but John knows that even the slightest of touches is liable to set him off and that’s exactly why he did it. John’s doing everything and anything he can to set Dean off, and once again Dean can’t seem to think of anything else but _leave._

“You need to leave,” Dean says, trying to steel his features into something steadier. It’s not working though, in fact it’s failing miserably, and John knows it. It’s won’t be long before he uses that to his advantage. 

Dean clenches his hands into tight fists as they start to shake beyond his control, his attempt at controlling it in any way he can. He still can’t get them under control. “You know you're not supposed to be here. Get the fuck off my porch.”

“Oh come on now,” John says, hand running down Dean’s arm. Dean resists the urge to flinch away at the touch, eyes closing as he fights back the urge to flee. “Don't be like that. It’s been how long since you've seen me and this is how you react? With contempt? That’s no way to treat your father, Dean. Show me some respect, after all I did raise you.”

“After everything you've done, you don't deserve my respect. You don't deserve anything from me and I want you gone. This is my house, you aren’t supposed to be here, now leave,” Dean says, trying to muster up every ounce of courage he possibly could.

He’s never been good at protecting himself against John, when he was a kid he had no other choice but to take what he dished out if he wanted to keep Sammy safe, and he’s finding it hard to do so right now.

“Don't act like you didn’t like what I did,” John says. “We both know that you enjoyed every second of it, you brought it on yourself after all.”

“No,” Dean says, voice vehement in its response. “No.”

He’s been working with Benny, the therapist Cas had convinced him to see, for a year now. It's been roughly five years since the abuse had ended, he and Cas had been together for three of those years, and he's only just now starting to understand that what had happened to him wasn't his fault, that he hadn’t wanted it nor had he brought it on himself.

“You begged me for it,” John says, carefully enunciating every word in an attempt to make them stick. “Begged like the little bitch you know you are, you know you’ve always been.”

“You beat me within an inch of my life and threatened Sammy every time I refused,” Dean says, tone getting angrier as the conversation escalated. “That’s why I stopped fighting back, because you forced it onto me. You tortured me and my made my life a living hell, what happened to me wasn't my fault. I didn't deserve it, I didn’t like it, I didn’t want it.”

Dean's scrambling now, saying anything that comes to mind, and he’s only half-convinced that what he's saying his true. He tries to remember what Cas tells him, what Benny's been helping him understand, but he can't think straight with his father _right there_. John always fucked with his perception of things, clouded his mind with memories that made him second guess everything he’d worked so hard to understand. 

“You tell yourself that, but you know it isn't true,” John says. “Remember what I did, Dean? You enjoyed it, liked the little games we played. You liked it boy, don't lie to yourself, and don’t let Castiel tell you any different. You wanted your Daddy to do those things to you, didn’t you?”

Dean figures it’s that word, that particular word, that finally gives him the courage to make a move. John doesn't know about the game he and Cas play, the roles they take on when everything gets to be too much. He knows this and yet he doesn't want to hear the word Daddy come out of John’s mouth. That's a word he reserves only for Cas, a word that only Cas gets to be called, and he’s not going to let his father ruin that for him. John’s twisting the title into something that's wicked and painful and he's not going to stand for it.

“You aren’t my fucking Daddy,” Dean says, pouring every ounce of venom he possibly can into the words, before he slams the door shut. Dean watches shock cross over John’s face before the door slams shut, successfully drawing a line between them. Dean moves too fast for John to do anything to stop him, slamming and locking the heavy front door.

Dean collapses against the door as soon as it’s shut, eyes pooling with tears. His chest hurts and he's finding it hard to breathe, every breath hurts and is shakier than he’s comfortable with. His body starts to shake as his mind replays past memories on repeat, Dean can't escape from them and it makes his head hurt.

Dean can hear John on the other side of the door, shifting around as he attempts to wrench it open. Once he realizes he's not going to get the door open he starts pounding on the heavy wood, screaming for Dean to open it up. Dean doesn't get why John's even here, what he wants with him, or why he even bothered to show up at Dean's house. No matter John’s reasoning he’s not opening the door for shit.

Dean mentally checks to make sure that all the other entrances to the house are locked before he does anything else, the last thing he wants right now is John finding another way into the house through other means. He distinctly remembers locking the back door before he had started The Walking Dead and he knows all the windows are locked. He only relaxes once he’s sure there’s no way he can find a way into the house.

Dean’s fingers twitch towards his pocket where his cellphone is. He wants to call Cas, wants to call him so badly it almost hurts, but he decides against it. They'd talked to each other less than an hour ago and he knows Cas is in bed by now. He’s got an early meeting in the morning and the last thing Dean wants to do is make him tired for it. So he convinces himself he doesn't need the comfort of his boyfriend right now to keep him calm, he can do this by himself. Cas is unavailable right now, he'll have to deal with it.

There's a particularly loud, jarring, bang against the door that makes Dean jolt away from it in a panic. He clasps his hands together tightly to still their shaking. John’s still on the other side of the door, voice and pounding only getting louder, and his presence is making Dean unravel even faster.

It’s getting to be too much. Dean is getting closer to a full blown panic attack by the minute and he knows if he doesn't get a handle on himself soon he’s going to start slipping into his headspace, something he can't do if Cas isn't here. John says something on the other side of the door, sound too muffled to make out clearly, and Dean knows if he doesn’t get away right now something horrible is going to happen.

He forces himself to walk over to the couch, focusing on his feet as they move one foot in front of the other, and tries keep himself inside his own head. He can’t hear John from his position in the living room and he tries to forget that the man is even there.

Once Dean’s seated on the couch he resumes the episode he’d been watching. Things are starting to heat up on the show and he knows, can sense, that something is about to go down. Usually he’d be on the edge of his seat, watching every second in earnest, but thirty seconds later he knows he’s not going to be able to focus on it. Reluctantly he switches the T.V. off and stares at the blank screen, hoping that the screen can somehow calm himself down.

His brain just won't shut the fuck up and everything seems to remind him of the past he can't escape from, no matter how hard he tries. Memories of his father flash through his head, taking over every current thought process, and he can't  _handle it_. He’s slipping and he’s slipping fast but he still can't muster up the strength to call Cas right now. John's right, he's pathetic. He can't even come into contact with his father without breaking down and needing Cas to fix it all. He's a grown ass man and should be able to handle this without slipping, should be able to handle this by himself.

He needs Cas, knows he needs  _his Daddy,_ but Cas isn't available right now. He’s hours away on a business trip, sleeping soundly in his hotel room. Dean can’t call him, can’t wake him up, can’t contact him at all and it’s driving him crazy. He needs Cas to help him keep everything together, needs him to help him transition into his headspace smoothly.

Safe place. He needs his safe place but his safe place is wherever Cas is and Cas isn't here, Cas can't be here. He’s by himself and he can't breathe and he’s so fucking terrified he can't think straight. He feels hands, hands touching and slapping and pinching at his skin, his father’s hands, and everything is just  _too much._ The memories keep coming, flooding his brain with things he doesn't want to remember, and he knows he's on the verge of reverting.

After twenty minutes of Dean fighting it, trying to handle everything on his own, he knows he’s going to have to do something, anything. Fighting it is just going to make everything so much worse, at the rate he's going slipping into his little headspace is inevitable and the more he fights it the worse he’s going to feel.

Dean stands up and slowly heads towards the bedroom, undelivered pizza and his father forgotten. He grabs his blanket from the bin in the closet, wrapping it around his shoulders tightly. The blanket is big and soft and comfortable and it helps to stave off the rising panic he's feeling within him. He desperately wants to grab his binky, fingers itching to dip into the drawer where Cas keeps them, but he can't. It'll push him even further over the edge and he can't slip too far, not when Cas isn't here. Grabbing his blanket indulges himself a little without pushing it over the edge, adding anything else would push him too far, and it's the only comfort he can afford to give himself right now.

Dean thinks about calling Sam for a few seconds, with Sam here Dean could slip all the way over without worrying about causing too much damage, but decides against it. Sam's got special plans tonight with Gabriel, he's not going to ruin that with his problems.

Dean wraps his blanket tighter around himself before he makes his way towards the master bathroom. He steps inside, cold tile tickling his bare feet, and curls up in the bathtub. Why he's here instead of in bed Dean doesn't know, for some reason the smooth porcelain helps calm him down and feel safer. He pulls his blanket over him, fisting his hands tightly into the top of it as he presses the soft material against his face. He knows this is a bad idea, indulging himself in even a small comfort when there’s no one to keep an eye on him, but he can't help it.

Before he knows it Dean is sobbing, crying uncontrollably, and he can’t stop no matter what he does. He stays like that, curled up in a tight ball as he sobs, for over an hour. His head hurts and his body is aching for even the slightest bit of comfort from another person. He's on that bridge, that section of his little space where he's halfway between being big and little, and he knows this can only end badly. He should try contacting Cas, he would be furious if he found out that Dean let himself get like this without contacting him or Sam, but right now he can't do anything but lay curled up in a ball.

“Daddy,” he cries, lip trembling as he chokes out the words, even though he knows that there won't be any answer. His Daddy is gone and won't be coming back for a while. Dean doesn't know how long he stays like that before exhaustion overtakes him. His eyes slip closed, hands not loosening his grip on his blanket, and he cries himself into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? I've got another chapter planned for this that's already mostly written, it shouldn't be long until it's posted.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel’s in his hotel room, about to leave for yet another meeting, when his phone goes off. He picks it up, expecting to finally get a message from Dean. He hasn't heard from him at all today and he can't help but start to get a little worried. When Castiel’s away for work its normal for him not to get many messages from Dean while he's working, he can handle that. Only problem is he hasn't heard from Dean at all since they'd hung up last night and that's not like him. Dean knows how worried Castiel can get and is good about sending him a few texts throughout the day, even when he’s busy, just so he knows that everything’s okay.

The message, as it turns out, is not from Dean after all. It’s from Sam and the one word is enough to set his heart racing a million miles an hour. Pancake. It might not seem like much to most people, but that’s their code word for when Dean’s slipped into his headspace and is in need of Castiel.

When it’s planned Sam can easily take care of Dean when Castiel isn't there to do so, sometimes they even specifically schedule it so that Sam’s the one taking care of him. Little Dean loves the time he gets to spend with his Daddy, but he also loves spending time with his brother Sammy and Sam’s really good at giving Dean what he needs.

This is unexpected though, they never plan anything when Castiel is going to be out of town, and it worries him. The unexpected slip up means something’s triggered Dean into his headspace and Castiel needs to be there for him. Sam’s good at taking care of him, phenomenal really. Castiel was surprised to see just how good Sam is with Dean when he's in his little headspace the first time he had witnessed it, he enjoys taking care of his brother. But sometimes Dean just needs his Daddy, especially when the scene isn't planned, and Sam's text message shows Castiel that Dean really needs him right now.

Now that Castiel knows what's going on at home everything makes sense. No wonder Dean hadn't answered his calls or tried to get ahold of him today. Something must have happened that set him off, caused him to slip into his headspace when nobody else was there. He thinks back to the last time he had talked to Dean. He'd called him last night before he went to bed and they had talked on the phone for a while. He knew Dean was going to catch up on The Walking Dead, order a pizza, and then go to bed. It was a relatively normal night, Castiel has no idea what could have triggered him.

He sends a quick text to Sam, letting him know he'd gotten the message and would be there as soon as possible, before he springs into action. It’s a good thing he’s only a few hours’ drive away, if he pushes the limit, which he definitely intends to do, he'll be home in an hour and a half.

Castiel cancels the rest of his meetings for this trip as he quickly packs, throwing everything haphazardly into his bag. He doesn't care if it's organized, the only thing he wants right now is to get to Dean. Once he's sure he's got everything he grabs his bag, swings his laptop case of his shoulder, and heads down to the lobby. In less than twenty minutes Castiel is in his car, driving as fast as he possibly can, possibly breaking several traffic laws, down the interstate.

During the drive Castiel’s head is full of different scenarios that could have triggered Dean into his headspace. When Dean’s overwhelmed, stressed out, or handling something he can't wrap his mind around he lets Castiel know and they come up with a scene. Almost every single one of them are meticulously planned out in advance, planning everything makes it easier for Dean to handle. They've been doing this for a year now and Dean’s unexpectedly slipped only twice, both times Castiel was there to help make the transition easier for him. Nothing like this has ever happened before.

Sam’s car is parked out front when he pulls up into the driveway almost two hours later, not that he expected anything different. Sam would never leave Dean alone when he’s like this. Castiel gets out of the car, leaving his bag in the trunk, and hurries up to the front door. Immediately Castiel can tell whatever had caused Dean to slip was pretty horrible, just by observing the state Dean's in. It’s now been over two hours since Sam had texted him. Sam’s good at calming Dean down and taking care of him when he reverts to his little headspace, only today it seems he hadn't been successful.

Dean’s curled up in the recliner in the living room, clinging tightly to his blanket as if it’s the only thing protecting him, and he’s clearly traumatized. His eyes are puffy and red, clear signs that he'd been crying. He's looking at the T.V., seemingly paying attention to the cartoons Sam had put on for him, but after looking at him a little more careful Castiel can clearly see he's not paying any attention to what's going on.

Sam’s sitting on the couch next to the chair, trying to get him to respond to no avail. It’s a sight that breaks his heart, Castiel has never seen Dean look so... broken before and it absolutely kills him. Sam looks up the second he hears the door open, immediately jumping up from the couch once he realizes who it is.

“Oh thank God,” he says, rushing towards him. Dean doesn't respond, doesn’t take break his dazed stare. Castiel doesn't think he's ever seen him this locked into his head.

Sam stops next to him and follows his gaze towards where Dean’s sitting. "What happened?" Castiel asks, finally turning to look at Sam.

Sam sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Jo called me on my lunch break, said Dean wasn't answering his phone and hadn't shown up for work. I tried calling him but he didn’t answer so I came to check on him. I got here around two and found him curled up in the bathtub, seemingly unresponsive. I got him to come to the living room with his blankie, but other than that I can't get him to do anything. No matter what I do I can’t get him to talk, he’s seriously starting to scare me.”

Castiel glances down at his watch. It’s a little after five meaning Dean’s been like this for three hours and that's just the time period that Sam's been here. Who knows how long he had been in the bathroom before Sam had shown up. His unresponsive daze is freaking him out and he’s half-tempted to call Benny for help. Castiel’s itching to go to Dean, but first he's got to learn as much as he can about the situation. “Do you have any idea what triggered it?”

“No.” Sam frowns. “I haven’t got him to talk to me at all. I’ve never seen him like this,” he says softly, “but considering how he’s reacting my best guess is John's involved in some way.”

He whispers John’s name, not wanting Dean to hear it. Just because he seems to be in some kind of daze doesn't mean he’s not registering what they're saying and Sam really doesn't want to set him off even more by bringing him up.

“That’s the only thing that seems to make sense,” Castiel says, frowning. He’s not exactly sure what had happened but one thing is blatantly clear to him. If John had done something to hurt Dean, he’d make sure he was dealt with. “What have you done so far?”

“I couldn't get him to talk,” Sam says, voice still quiet. “When I found him he had wet himself, so I changed him into a diaper and softer clothes. I know we don't use them often, but he’s been completely unresponsive and it was the only thing I could do. I tried to get him to eat, even made him one of those rice bottles we have for emergencies, but he refused everything I gave him. I was able to get him to drink some of his favorite juice, but other than that he wouldn't take anything. He was vulnerable and scared, I didn’t want to get forceful with him. That would have only set him off even more. I figured you'd have a better chance at getting him to respond, so I just waited for you.”

“Thanks Sam,” Castiel says, looking up at the taller man. He did everything he should have done and Castiel is glad Sam knows about this. Dean had been terrified of him finding out, he didn’t want him to think any less of him, but Sam didn’t even blink. Instead, he did a lot of research on the subject and told Castiel he'd be more than willing to help in any way that he could. Not a lot of people would have been so accepting. “You really are the best brother someone could ask for.”

Sam’s lips twitch into a sad smile. “Dean endured an unimaginable hell growing up. The things that John did to him you couldn't dream up in your worst nightmares, and he protected me from them. My entire life he made sure that I was taken care of, I think understanding this and helping where I'm needed is the least I can do to repay him. He’s my brother and I'll do whatever he needs me to do, no matter how unconventional some people see it.”

Castiel nods, soft smile on his face, before he makes his way further into the living room. He takes hesitant steps towards Dean, not wanting to startle him. “Hey baby,” he says softly, stopping in front of the chair Dean’s curled up in. He’s careful not to bring up what could have triggered him, it would only make the situation ten time worse than it already is.

Dean blinks at the sound of Castiel’s voice and turns his head so he’s looking at him. It takes him a few seconds to register who’s sitting in front of him but the second he does the reaction is immediate. “Daddy?” he says timidly, voice soft and childlike.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling comfortingly. “It’s me. You okay sweetheart?”

Dean chokes back a sob, eyes welling up in tears, before he practically throws himself into Castiel’s lap. Castiel doesn't say anything, just wraps his arms tightly around Dean as he starts sobbing against his shoulder. “It’s alright baby,” Castiel soothes, shifting their bodies into a more comfortable position. "Daddy's got you, you're okay."

Dean curls up in as tight a ball as he can get before he rests against Castiel’s chest, arms wrapping around his back and fisting in his t-shirt. Castiel just holds him, running his hands up and down Dean’s back in an attempt to calm him down. He’s not sure how long they sit like that, Dean crying uncontrollably into his neck, but after some time Dean seems to calm down.

Slowly he uncurls himself from the tight ball he's in, but keeps his hands fisted tightly in Castiel’s shirt. “There’s my good boy,” Castiel says, cooing as he pulls back slightly so he can look at Dean’s face. He wipes at his tears with a smile, pressing a kiss against his forehead, before he runs a hand over Dean's cheek. “That's it, baby. You just needed Daddy, huh?”

Dean nods his head but doesn't expand on the subject. Castiel wants to get inside Dean’s head, figure out what had triggered him so he can understand the situation in its entirety, but he knows better than to broach the subject right now. Dean’s still in an incredibly vulnerable position, the last thing he wants to do right now is set him off.

"You feeling better now, baby?" Castiel asks, and Dean nods into his chest.

"Missed you," Dean says, voice soft. "You weren't there and I needed you. I was scared and you were gone and I was all by myself and-"

Castiel can tell Dean's nearing the hysterical state he was just in so he calmly stops his words with a hand on his cheek. "Shh," he says softly, "it’s okay baby, I'm here now. Daddy's got you."

Dean hiccups, trying to get himself under control, and slowly his hands uncurl from the back of Castiel's shirt. He's starting to relax again, let go of whatever it is that had triggered him, and Castiel can practically see him becoming more carefree and happy.

That's when Dean’s stomach growls loudly and he hides his face in Castiel’s neck, embarrassed. “Is someone hungry?” Castiel asks cheerfully, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. Who knows when the last time Dean had actually eaten was.

Dean nods his head shyly and Castiel just runs his thumb over his chin. “Daddy’s gonna make dinner, what do you want to eat tonight baby? I'll let you pick.”

Dean sticks out his tongue, thinking hard about the answer, before he answers excitedly. “S’ghetti!”

“Alright, spaghetti it is.” Castiel smiles and combs at Dean’s hair with his fingers. “Sammy’s gonna eat with us,” Castiel says, knowing there’s no way Sam’s going to be leaving anytime soon. Not until he knows for sure that Dean’s okay. “Maybe if you ask him nicely he’ll play with you while I make us dinner.”

“Sammy!” Dean says, flinging his head around to look at Sam who’s still standing at the entrance to the living room. His voice is getting louder, more excited, and Castiel can't help but smile as Dean unwinds.

“Hey buddy,” Sam says walking over to the two of them. He sits down on the floor next to Dean, ruffling his hair. “How’s it going?”

“Daddy says we can play while he cooks,” Dean says brightly. “Will you play with me, please?”

“Of course I will!” Sam says, voice matching Dean’s enthusiasm. “I love playing with my little buddy.” Sam forms his hand into a claw and tickles Dean’s stomach, causing him to break out into hysterical laughter.

“Sammy, stop it!” Dean says in between gasps of laughter. Same continues to tickle him, lifting up his shirt to blow raspberries on his belly, and Castiel can physically see the last of the worry melt off of Dean's face.

Castiel watches the two of them for a few seconds, smile on his face, before he stands up. He heads to his and Dean’s bedroom and rummages through the closet where they keep Dean’s baby stuff. He grabs the toy box that has most of Dean’s toys in it, his favorite stuffed animal, and a pacifier, before he heads back downstairs.

Castiel steps back into the living room and surveys the situation in front of him. Sam’s still next to Dean, tickling him relentlessly, and Dean’s squealing happily. “Look buddy,” Sam says as he stops his tickling, pointing towards Castiel.

“I’ve got your toys,” Castiel says, setting down the box near Dean. “And I got you these, if you want them of course.” He holds out Dean’s stuffed animal and pacifier. Dean makes grabby hands for both and Castiel eagerly hands them over to him.

“There, that’s better huh?” Castiel asks once Dean's got the pacifier in his mouth and the stuffed animal in his hands. Dean nods happily. He looks so carefree, happy, much better than the terrified person Castiel had seen when he had first walked through the door.

“What do you want to play with first?” Sam asks, opening up the toy box, and Dean’s attention is immediately drawn back towards his brother.

Castiel watches them for a minute or two, happily playing, and he can't help but think how lucky Dean is to have a brother who loves him enough to give him whatever it is he needs. Dean had been severely abused, mentally, physically, sexually, most of his life and had never had a childhood because of it. He had to grow up fast, it was the only way to survive the situation and keep his little brother safe. He never got to be happy and carefree, never got to experience the joys of being a child. These scenes they did allowed Dean to have the childhood he never had, not to mention cope with situations that can be hard to handle.

Castiel watches as Sam pulls out Dean's blocks, already starting construction on a large tower. The two of them build it up as high as they can before Dean knocks it down, giggling as the blocks crash to floor, and then start all over again. Castiel smiles and heads towards the kitchen, ready to start dinner for the three of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was only supposed to be a one shot, then it morphed into a two chaptered fic, and now apparently it's going to be more than that. Seriously I had no intention of writing more than two chapters, but for some reason I really like this and it's gonna be longer than originally intended. Probably not longer than five chapters, but honestly I have no idea what's going to happen. Stupid muse, hijacking my original plans. 
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel lets his mind wander as he cooks dinner, absentmindedly stirring the sauce he's got cooking on the stove. He still can't seem to wrap his head around what had set Dean off. He wants to know, wants to ask Dean so he can figure out the best way to help him right now, but he can't. Not until Dean's completely out of his little headspace. Talking to him now would just cause more trouble than he's willing to put Dean through, he'd do anything to keep his baby safe and sound.

The only thing Castiel's sure of is that whatever had happened was horrible, probably something to do with John. Dean wouldn't have reacted like this if it wasn't. John's the only topic that ever causes Dean to act this traumatized, the only thing that causes him true fear.

Last time Castiel had checked, though, which was only a couple of months ago, John was in prison after some kind of bar fight had taken a turn for the worst. As far as Castiel could remember he still had a couple more years to serve, and, even if he was now out of prison for some reason, they had a restraining order against him. Any contact from him would result in immediate legal action. He's almost positive John would never take the restraining order seriously, but it made them feel better about the entire situation and that's all Castiel really wanted in the end. 

Less than an hour later Castiel’s done with dinner. He yells into the living room the kitchen to let Sam and Dean know that dinner's ready, trusting that Sam will help Dean pick up his toys before they come. Once he's sure they know what's going on, he dishes up a plate for each one of them and sets them on the table. He fills Dean’s favorite plastic cup, the one with toothless from How to Train Your Dragon on it, with milk and sets it down beside his plate. Castiel had already cut up the spaghetti into smaller chunks for Dean, even though technically speaking it really wasn't that necessary. Dean's mindset was usually around the age of four when he slipped into his little headspace, sometimes smaller depending on the situation. Spaghetti was easy to eat and Dean could easily eat it normally. However, the more Castiel does for Dean the easier it is to care for him. Plus, he likes doing it.

A few seconds later Sam and Dean appear in the doorway, taking their respective seats. "Sammy helped me pick up my toys," Dean says with a bright smile.

"Good boy baby," Castiel says, mirroring Dean's enthusiasm. "Such a good boy."

Dean doesn't really say much more, but Castiel can tell that the complement has done wonders for his self-esteem. They've been doing this for a while now and it still amazed Castiel just how low his self-esteem could get when he was in his headspace. Dean picks up his fork and starts shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he can, confirming Castiel’s earlier theory that he probably hadn't eaten since yesterday.

“Slow down, baby boy,” Castiel says with a small smile, making sure Dean is well aware of the fact that he’s not even remotely angry at him. “The food’s not going anywhere, you're just going to make your tummy hurt if you keep going at that pace.”

Dean blushes, slightly embarrassed, but slows down considerably. He starts taking smaller, more deliberate, bites and eagerly drinks his cup of milk. 

Castiel’s lips twitch into a smile. Everything’s going so good. The three of them start talking, even though he and Sam are mostly listening while Dean talks, about random stuff. Dean is relaxed, happier than Castiel's seen him in a while, and it makes Castiel happy to see. The only thing he has ever wanted is for Dean to lead a happy and carefree life, and he'll do anything to make sure that he does.

Most of it has been gone for a while now but by now Castiel can tell that all the anxiety, fear, and sadness he’s been harboring is gone, replaced with the childhood innocence he needs so badly. Everything is going great, Castiel should have known it wouldn't last long. Nothing ever seems to last for very long in their lives.

Dean’s still talking enthusiastically, face covered in spaghetti sauce. He's made a mess of his shirt, face, and hands, but Castiel can't really bother to care. If Dean has to get messy to finally feel relaxed he'd gladly let him. Dean continues to talk quickly, relaying everything he and Sam had done while Castiel was cooking, while moving his hands back and forth in an attempt to emphasize what he's saying. Only, he seems to misjudge the distance between his hands and his and Sam's cups. He accidentally bumps into both of them, knocking them over.

Dean’s plastic cup makes a high pitched thud as it hits the table it's resting on. The milk spills into his lap and soaks his pajama bottoms, turning the light gray material dark. As if that wasn't bad enough, Sam’s cup goes flying off the table as well and crashes against the floor. The distinct sound of shattering glass reverberates throughout the room as shards go flying every which way. Dean flinches so hard Castiel's surprised he doesn't fall out of the chair he's sitting in. His hands come up to protect his face, as if he were protecting himself from being slapped, and the gesture breaks Castiel's heart.

Dean's frozen in place, unable to do anything but sit there in shock. His hands are shaking so hard Castiel is actually afraid he might hurt himself if he isn't careful. He can already tell Dean’s on the verge of losing it all, of having a full blown panic attack, and it kills him. All he wants to do is wrap him up in warm hug and not let anything hurt him ever again. Breaking dishes have always been a heavy trigger for Dean, especially if he's the one to break it, and he knows Dean’s going to react negatively. John used to severely punish Dean for breaking anything, no matter what the circumstance was, and, even though Dean knows without a doubt that Sam and Castiel would never hurt him, he can't help but find himself back in that position. A flashback is about to hit him, and hit him hard.

Sure enough, not even five seconds later, Dean’s eyes well up with tears as his features twitch into one of absolute terror. “I’m sorry,” he says, looking frantically over at Castiel. The look Dean gives him is possibly the saddest thing he's ever seen and it's tearing at him. Dean is petrified, absolutely petrified, and Castiel just wants to erase all the pain that Dean has ever felt. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” Those two words get repeated over and over again with no sign of stopping anytime soon. 

Dean slides out of his chair and falls to his knees. He tries to scrape up the broken glass with his hands, something that would undoubtedly cut up his skin pretty badly, only Sam’s there to stop him. He doesn't touch him or get too close to him, afraid that he could accidentally trigger him more, just puts his hands in front of Dean’s so he can’t get at the broken glass.

“It’s alright baby,” Castiel says gently, moving so he’s kneeling on the ground beside Dean. He’s got to do this slowly, reveal it piece by piece, otherwise he's just going to cause even more damage. "It's okay baby boy, Daddy isn't mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong."

“Look at me sweetheart,” Castiel says softly when it looks as if Dean's too lost in his own head to be pulled out. Dean turns to look at him after a few seconds. While he’s preoccupied with Castiel, Sam rushes to get the broom and starts sweeping up the shards of glass before Dean does anything else that could get himself hurt. “You’re okay honey, I’m not mad at you. Baby, you’re safe here. Remember? Completely safe, nothing can hurt you. Nobody's mad at you, you're okay.”

Dean’s eyes move back and forth frantically, something that only makes his headache worse and causes more disorientation, his breathing is heavy, and his eyes are so watery it looks like he could burst into tears with the simplest of cues, sure signs that he’s on the brink of a full blown panic attack. After a few more minutes of Dean trying to calm himself down to no avail, Castiel takes a chance and gently grasps his hands and gently smooths his fingers over the skin. He doesn't react at first, so Castiel keeps doing it in hopes that it'll diffuse the situation.

“I'm not mad baby, it’s just a cup. We've got lots of glasses that look exactly like that one,” Castiel says, softly. He’s well aware of Sam standing behind him, probably torn between wanting to help and wanting to stay out of it.

It takes Dean longer to calm himself down this time, longer than it’s taken him to calm himself down in a while. Dean tightens his grip on Castiel’s hands as a sort of stress relief, squeezing so tightly it almost hurts, as he tries to get himself under control. Eventually Dean’s breathing even outs, his eyes don't flick back and forth frantically, and his heartbeat is under control.

“I'm sorry,” Dean whispers yet again, looking down at the wooden floors he’s sitting on. “So sorry.” Dean sniffs and that’s when Castiel decides he’s had enough of just sitting there.

“Oh honey,” he says softly, running a gentle hand through Dean's smooth hair. “This isn't your fault, it was just some silly accident. Nobody's gonna be mad at you for accidentally breaking a glass. I’m not mad at you, I could never be made at such a good little boy.”

Dean gulps heavily before he lets go of Castiel’s hands and stands up. Castiel follows suit and glances over at Dean’s plate, noticing it's pretty much empty. “You done baby?” he asks.

Dean just nods shyly, not willing to use his voice right now which worries Castiel slightly. “Okay then. Do you wanna take a bath? I bet that would make you feel much better.” The warm bubble bath will help Dean relax, not to mention the fact that Dean’s kind of a mess from the spaghetti he'd eaten and he needs to be cleaned up and changed anyway.

“Okay,” Dean says, looking hesitantly up at Sam with an unspoken question. Dean may be plenty comfortable with slipping into his little space when Sam’s around, but he’s still not at all comfortable with Sam being around when he bathes.

“I'll call Gabe and finish cleaning the kitchen while you guys are upstairs,” Sam says, immediately picking up on Dean’s uncomfortableness. “I'll be done by the time you guys are.”

“You okay with that Dean?” Castiel asks. He receives another nod from Dean and a hesitant smile. “Okay baby. Let’s get you upstairs then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel makes sure the water isn't too hot before he runs the bathwater, adding a few drops of Dean’s favorite bubble bath. This is all about keeping Dean relaxed, and the bubble bath will certainly help him do so. Once he’s got everything set he turns around and carefully helps Dean strip out of his clothes. Soon enough, he’s sitting in the bathtub ready to be washed by Castiel.

“You want your toys, baby?” Castiel asks, reaching into the back of the cabinet under the sink where they keep a small basket of bath toys. He pulls the box out and sets it on the toilet, sorting through the box in search of Dean’s favorite.

“No,” Dean says, to Castiel’s absolute surprise, voice soft and reserved. He never takes a bath without at least one of his toys and it’s a dead giveaway that something is wrong.

“You sure?” Castiel asks as he sits back on his heels. He bends forward over the side of the tub, trying to catch Dean’s eye to no avail. He’s avoiding looking directly at Castiel. “You're not in trouble Dean, you're allowed to play with your toys if you want.”

Dean only shakes his head and looks down at his thighs, not saying another word. Castiel can tell something’s wrong with him, and he’s not entirely sure it’s only because of what had happened at dinner. “Do you wanna talk about what’s bothering you, baby?” Castiel asks, brushing Dean’s hair from his forehead. “You can tell Daddy anything, you know that. I won't be mad at you.”

“I keep messing up,” Dean says, so softly Castiel almost misses it.

“You haven't messed up, baby,” Castiel says. “You've been so good today, Daddy’s good boy. I'm so proud of you.”

“No,” Dean says, shaking his head vehemently. “I didn’t call you when I started slipping, I scared Sammy, I broke a glass and made a mess, I-” There’s a pause and Castiel can see that Dean’s having problems saying whatever he’s about to say next. “I wet myself, only babies do that. I’m not a baby. I've been bad, I don't deserve you. I'm messed up and I can't do anything right.”

In a second Castiel understands exactly what’s going on. Dean's dangerously close to the line that divides older Dean from little Dean, which will only cause more problems. Instead of succumbing to the care that Castiel willingly gives him, he's picking up on everything that's gone wrong today and using it to fuel his insecurities. Dean hasn't really had time to address his sudden fall into his subspace, he's still balancing precariously on the edge. Everything that's happened today would scare anyone, and Dean's got to be disoriented. Castiel feels like a failure. He should have picked up on this, should have realized just what's going on in Dean's head and altered the situation slightly to reassure him that everything's okay.

“Oh baby, those things don't make you a bad boy. Everybody makes mistake, but that doesn't make you bad. You're so good, always such a good boy, and you deserve to feel safe and happy. You'll always be my good boy, no matter what happens. Nothing is ever going to change what you are to me, do you hear me?” Castiel asks, ducking his head so he meets Dean’s eyes.

“But I-” Dean starts, but Castiel cuts him off.

“No buts. You should have called me when you started slipping, but that’s something we will talk about later when you're feeling better. It doesn't make you a bad boy. The glass breaking was just an accident, you don't get in trouble for accidents, remember?" Castiel asks. He watches as the words start to sink in and Dean's slowly moves further away from that dangerous line.

"I remember," Dean says softly.

"Good boy, see? You're still a good boy. Sammy isn't mad at you for what happened early, he was just a little worried about you that's all. He played with you earlier, remember? he wouldn't have done that if he was mad at you." Castiel keeps his voice slow and steady.

"That was fun," Dean says, lips splitting into a big smile. "I like playing with Sammy."

"And Sammy likes playing with you," Castiel says, running a hand through Dean's hair. "I know you wet yourself, but that’s okay. Remember what Daddy says? Sometimes you need different needs, and don't ever be ashamed of that. It's okay to let go. You’re my perfect special boy, and I will take care of you no matter what your needs are because I love you." Castiel pauses, wanting his message to sink in. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Dean says, and Castiel can tell by the look in his eyes and the tone in his voice that he's in a much better position now. “I’m sorry.”

“Don't be sorry baby, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Castiel says with a smile. He leans forward and presses his lips against the side of Dean’s head. “Do you want to play any, you can still pick out some toys if you want?”

“No,” Dean says softly, almost as if he was embarrassed about what he was about to say. “I just want to be done so I can cuddle with you.”

Castiel smiles and runs a thumb over his cheek. “Of course. Let’s get you cleaned up then, yeah?”

Dean nods shyly, giving Castiel the okay. Castiel takes out a washcloth and begins to run the smooth cloth over Dean's skin, washing away the daily grime. He sings softly as he washes him, something that's always been able to calm Dean down when he's at his worst. Dean relaxes beneath his hands, leaning back with his eyes closed as Castiel washes him. He looks so peaceful, like nothing could possibly hurt him, and Castiel can't help but smile. Dean spent almost his entire life taking care of others, it was nice to watch him get taken care of for once.

It's not long until he reaches the scared skin underneath Dean's collarbone. He smoothes the cloth over it but is careful not to spend too much time on it. Dean's relaxed and happy for the time being, not really paying attention to what Castiel is doing, and he’s glad for that. The mark John had branded into his skin, a large J just under his collarbone, sits there. Dean had taken a razor blade to it and scratched over the mark, making it nearly unrecognizable. But Castiel recognizes it for what it is, and he knows enough not to dwell too much on it.

Castiel flies through the rest of the bath. It’s starting to get late now and he knows Dean is exhausted, both emotionally and physically, and all Castiel wants to do is give him exactly what he needs. Once he’s finished washing Dean, Castiel helps him up and out of the tub. He takes him into their bedroom where he helps him get dressed.

“Can we watch a movie with Sammy?” Dean asks. Dean’s tired and his limbs are starting to get heavy, Castiel knows it won't be long until he’s out cold. A movie will be the perfect thing to get him to fall asleep.

“Sure love, why don’t we go downstairs and ask Sammy if he wants to watch something with us?” Castiel asks and Dean nods.

He takes a hold of Castiel’s hand and the two of them walk downstairs together. Sam’s on the couch, idly flipping through the channels. He turns around when he hears the two of them walking down the staircase. “Hey buddy, you feeling better now?”

Dean rubs tiredly at his eye and nods. “Daddy said we can watch a movie, will you watch it with us?”

“Sure,” Sam says with a smile. "I'd love to."

“Why don’t you and Sammy pick out a movie and I’ll make you some juice?” Castiel suggests.

Dean nods and walks over to where Sammy is in the living room. Castiel walks into the kitchen to make some juice. He takes his time, giving Sam and Dean plenty of time to pick out, and by the time Castiel is back the start menu for Tangled is on the screen.

“Sammy suggested it,” Dean says, almost embarrassed. Castiel knows Tangled is one of Dean’s favorite movies, but he’s often embarrassed about it and will almost never pick it for himself. He and Sam have a system set up. They'll suggest the movie, making it seem like they're the one who wants to watch it, and take Dean’s cue on if he wants to watch it or not.

“I like Tangled too,” Castiel says, taking his spot on the couch. Dean moves towards him the second he takes a seat, his blanket clutched tightly in his hands. Dean lays down on the couch, using Castiel’s leg as a pillow. Castiel maneuvers his position slightly, making it more comfortable for Dean, and hands Dean his sippy cup of juice. He makes sure Dean’s blanket is covering him and that he’s got everything he needs before he nods towards Sam to push play.

The movie starts and even though Castiel knows Dean’s going to be out within the first half hour, he can clearly tell Dean’s enjoying it. He’s got an almost permanent smile on his face and Castiel can practically see the little kid reflect in his eyes as the characters on screen start to sing.

Not even half way into the movie, Dean’s out cold. Castiel knows he slept like hell last night and he’s happy to see him finally get some decent sleep. Twenty minutes after Dean’s asleep, Sam stands up. “I should probably go,” he says softly. “Gabe had the late shift today but he’s going to be home soon and I want to be there when he gets home.”

“Don't worry about it,” Castiel says, keeping his voice almost impossibly low. “He'll be out the rest of the night.”

“You’re right, I think he’ll be okay with me leaving. Call me tomorrow? Let me know how he’s doing,” Sam says softly. “Plus we need to talk about what caused this. If John’s somehow involved I swear I’m going to find something to nail him on, I don’t even care what it is. I’m not going to let him fuck with Dean anymore.”

“Alright Sam. Thank you, for staying with him and taking care of him. You know I appreciate it, but Dean does as well. He needs you sometimes just as much as he needs me.”

Sam smiles and bids Castiel goodbye, leaving Castiel and Dean alone in the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? I'm thinking one, possibly two more chapters, and then this story will be finished.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel wakes up the next morning to Dean drawing patterns with his finger on his chest. Dean doesn’t look up at him, not even when he notices Castiel is awake, and that worries him. “Hey,” Castiel says softly, running a hand up and down Dean’s back. "You okay?"

Usually Dean’s back to his normal self the morning after they scene, there’s only been one instance where his little headspace had lasted more than a day, and Castiel is fairly certain he’s dealing with big Dean, given the way he seems to be acting. However, it wouldn't surprise him to find out that Dean’s still in his headspace. The past two days have been traumatic for Dean, there's no telling what state Dean's going to be in now.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says, still not looking up at Castiel. He’s out of his headspace, that much is clear to Castiel now, but he still seems a little off and he can't quite put his finger on it. “Everything just happened so quickly and I couldn’t handle it. I wanted to text you, let you know what was happening, but you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you up. I didn’t think I was going to slip that far, I thought I could handle it myself. Please, don't be mad at me. I don't think I can take you being mad at me.”

“Oh, babe,” Castiel says, sitting up so he’s cross-legged on the bed. “I’m not mad at you and I totally understand what happened, but you have to understand that what happened was very dangerous. Next time you need to call me, or at least call Sam.”

“I know,” Dean says. Dean’s still laying down and he maneuvers himself so he’s laying with his head resting in Castiel’s lap. Castiel slowly strokes his fingers through Dean’s hair, preparing himself for the question he knows he’s got to ask. He keeps stroking Dean's hair, trying to get him as calm as possible, before he finally opens up and asks him.

“You wanna tell me what happened, what triggered you?” Castiel asks. Dean tenses under his hands, not that he's surprised, and Castiel does his best to keep him calm.

Dean closes his eyes tightly and buries his face in Castiel’s lap. It’s a while before he answers, but Castiel can be patient and he waits until Dean is ready to open up to him. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“I think I know who was involved, but I really need to know exactly what happened,” Castiel says softly. “I know this is hard, Dean, and I wish I could stop it, but it’s got to happen.”

“He showed up,” Dean says after a few seconds and instantly Castiel’s body tenses. John wasn’t supposed to have any contact with Dean, wasn’t even supposed to know where they lived if he’s being honest with himself, and the thought of him showing up when Dean was alone and vulnerable pisses him off more than he can even comprehend.

“I don’t know why,” Dean says, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what he wanted, but he said stuff I didn’t like. Said you were just with me for sex, that that’s the only reason I can live in a place like this.”

It’d taken Castiel a while to convince Dean he was with him for more than just sex, and to think John was using that as a way to make Dean feel horrible about himself pissed him off. He’s about to open his mouth but Dean starts talking again and Castiel figures it’s best if he just lets him talk for now.

“He wouldn't leave,” Dean says, staring down at the comforter. “He just stood there, called me pathetic and kept talking shit about me. I couldn't make him leave. He put his hand on me and I couldn't think straight, Cas. He did everything he possibly could to make me feel as small as possible and I hated it. It’s been how many years and he still knows exactly how to push my buttons.”

Castiel doesn't speak, but that doesn't mean he’s not doing his best to reassure him without opening his mouth. He knows the second he starts talking Dean’s going to stop and he wants to find out as much as he can before that happens. Castiel runs his hands through Dean’s hair, soothing his fears with gentle touches.

“I was scared,” Dean chokes out and Castiel knows that had to be hard for him to admit. “He said I liked it, that I begged for it. But I didn’t Cas, I didn’t like it. I never liked it, you know that, please tell me you know that.”

“Hey,” Castiel says, noticing Dean’s about two seconds away from becoming hysterical. “I know, Dean, you know I know. It’s okay, calm down.” Castiel keeps shushing him as he runs his hands through his hair, holding him as he starts to break down in his arms.

“He said,” Dean says, trying to get the words out even though his voice is shaking. “He said I wanted my Daddy to do those things to me. I didn’t want him to do that to me and he’s not my Daddy, has never been my Daddy. I was so confused, Cas, and he was getting off on that. I didn’t, I can’t, I don’t-” Dean breaks off, unable to say anymore, and that's when Dean becomes nearly inconsolable.

Castiel has him sitting up in his lap in a matter of milliseconds, doing his best to calm him down with soothing touches. “Shh,” he says softly, brushing his lips against the top of Dean’s head. “Babe you’re okay, you’re safe remember? I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

Castiel’s not sure how long the two of them sit like that but he knows it's a while. Dean cries himself hoarse in the arms of his boyfriend and Castiel does his best to conceal the rage he's feeling, reacting like that is only going to make the situation so much worse. If he ever comes into contact with John Winchester Castiel swears he'll make sure he never gets the chance to put his hands on Dean again, he'll make sure of it. It kills him to think that Dean went through something like that completely by himself. It’s no wonder he had slipped into his little headspace, it was the only way Dean knew how to cope with all those overwhelming feelings.

When Dean’s all cried out his sits up and rubs at his eyes. His eyes are red and puffy and Castiel’s sure his head is pounding. “You look exhausted babe,” Castiel says, wiping at a stray tear on Dean’s cheek. “Why don't you take a nap, I'll make us some lunch and wake you up when it's done.”

Dean smiles and sniffs, for once not arguing with him. He rests his head against Castiel’s shoulder, letting himself be comforted by Castiel's presence. “I love you, so much.”

“I know,” Castiel says, leaning forward to press his lips against Dean’s. “I love you too, more than anything.”

Dean lays down in bed and Castiel helps cover him up. Dean closes his eyes and Castiel runs his hands through Dean’s hair, knowing it’s the fastest way to get him to fall asleep. He sings softly as he does it, watching as Dean relaxes completely underneath his hand and falls asleep.

When he’s sure Dean’s asleep he bends down and presses a kiss against the top of his head. “I’m gonna take care of him,” Castiel whispers to nothing in particular, meaning every word he says. “I'll make sure John Winchester can never come near you again, believe me. He'll be sorry he ever fucked with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm pretty sure this is the end. I was iffy about posting this fic from the beginning, but honestly, I really did enjoy writing it. I know this chapter probably could have gone better but I'm pretty satisfied with the way things ended.
> 
> I might write a sequel, I might not. It really just depends on what people want. Either way, I hope you liked it.


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